Lessons from Feminism

 I hear people talking about feminism in both positive and negative connotations. As a man, I can only empathize and try not to be a vessel of the patriarchy. 

Tangentially, however, there is another thought that crosses my mind in regards to what men can learn from feminism. Women saw the injustice of their lives and decided to raise their voice and take action. It's high time we men did the same. It is time to learn from feminism.

I'm not talking about men's rights. I'm talking about men taking responsibility for our own needs. Getting our manliness back. Reconnecting with our roots. 

Rhetoric has led us to believe that being a bread-winner is all that a man is. We have one drive and we invest all our time and effort into it. But, does wearing a lanyard and being a loyal, hard-working employee equal being a complete man? Does hauling the most money into your bank account make you the best man out there? Since when did a "real man" become the guy with the most houses or land or cars to his name? 

We keep finding  a bunch of reasons to resign ourselves to such shallowness, conveniently forgetting that the entire point is to walk the path without any directions or rules written down for us. 

It is time to reconnect with what manliness is - how accountability, diligence, fortitude and morality are pillars of what it is to be a man; not the 'smartness' to maximize one's own gains with no regard for others. The latter only leads to a victory of selfishness (tragedy of the commons). 

The fundamental glue of human civilization in the fact that man is a social animal with empathy, cooperation and other prosocial behaviors. But today, questionably funded mass-media wants to be anti-social by feeding us the lie that humans are innately selfish and deceitful. More ant-social means less sharing. Less sharing means more sales. The Nash equilibrium is a narcissism epidemic!

Morality is being modified right before our eyes by masters of manipulation. The 'art' of doing this has been glorified so much that it is considered a key 'skill' to have in the pursuit of 'success'. 'Success' - ah, another word that has been hijacked by people who literally decide what you live your life for! The main question is, how do we distinguish between what is real and what is manipulation? The answer is time. 

It is time to find time. It is time to reclaim time. It is time to fight for time.

Time? Yes, to become complete men again, we need the time to open our eyes to our true social role. We need to rediscover our place as informed citizens who do not let governments exploit our lack of awareness and attentiveness. We need the time to commune and debate ideas and opinions to arrive at solutions that benefit everyone. We need the time to strengthen our shoulders so that they may bear the weight of all our responsibilities, comprehensively. And we also need the time to rediscover our humaneness. 

We are dads wanting to spend time with their kids; young men wanting to spend time with their love; sons wanting to spend time with their aged parents; men wanting to spend time in nature; human beings wanting to spend time pondering about life.

We, as men, need to retrace our steps and figure out where we went astray.

Where we stopped caring about making the best environment for our loved ones.

Where we gave up on being vigilant of  bad-actors corrupting our society, our surroundings and our minds.

Where we forgot our gratitude for what we have, our pride of our relationships and our love for freedom.

Where we stopped being examples of good men.

Women have made it clear that they want to spend more time out of never-ending family obligations. 

As men, this is an opportunity for us to take a share of these and learn to become more well-rounded individuals.

Women clearly are more mentally ready today, to face the challenges in the path to achieving their goals. 

As men, we need to become mentally ready to take a new path, to recognize and address our mental-health needs, banishing all the made-up fluff around manliness. 

Women are focusing on themselves guys.

Let's learn!

"Be Smart, child"

Someone recounted this anecdote recently. They(Indian) were in a European country and there were thigh-level stoppers that blocked people from entering the train platforms(much like the ones we see at our metro stations), but no cops or security around. They asked their European friend what happens when people just jumped over the stoppers instead of swiping the metro-card for payment. The European was taken aback. They couldn't comprehend why anyone would even thing like that. They were clearly unacquainted with the Indian frame of thought!

In India, you are naive not to think of loop-holes in the 'system'. Sometimes, it's the thrill of skirting around the rules, like what mischievous children feel when they do something without their parents knowing. But at other times, it's just the only realistically possible way of getting something done in the bureaucratic mess that is our government. 'Smart' is the word used around here to describe someone who knows how to 'get things done', without getting struck down by rules and procedures. This 'skill' is glorified so much that you're a hero if you have it and a loser if you follow the rules instead. Even kids are taught how to treat rules as hurdles that they need to learn to jump over. In India, this is the way!

But is it a logical way, especially when you think about the long-term?

Here's a short story to shed more light ...

There is a walking path near where I live, as wide as a road that a car go on. It runs along a river and is unpaved. It was actually just a path meant for bulldozers to be able to do their work of building banks along the river so that it could protect the neighboring areas in the event of another flood (the first being in 2015). It had become a great place to go for a walk in the mornings and evenings for everyone in the neighborhood. People were walking, jogging and cycling there peacefully for sometime, till some 'smart' motorcycle guys got the idea of using it as a shortcut to get somewhere. And the icing on the satirical cake was how they drove at speed, alarming the walkers and joggers. A peaceful setting which stood out from our normal hellish roads, had become corrupted by zipping and zooming motorized two-wheelers.

Now, before cars start using it too, the government has stopped these motorists by placing a gate at the entrance of the path. It has a rotating gate for walkers and joggers, and also has a security-person cubicle near the gate. You might think, 'Ah, problem solved!'; end of story. But, hold on a second and think about the expenses made. The cost of the gate, the labor of installing it, the cost of the cubicle and the salary to be paid to the security person. Who's paying for it?

Let's recap that. A peaceful walking path now needs a gate and security because of some 'smart' guys who tried to use it as a shortcut. If you think a bit further, this is not an isolated story. This is a pattern. For example, think of how many extra minutes a person loses in a US airport just for enhanced security checking after 9/11. Now, multiply that by the millions of people traveling every year. Think of the cost of the equipment and security personnel. All of it wasted because of 12 terrorists who 'outsmarted' - very important word, airport security!

More thought can unearth the fact that we are practically losing a surprising amount of time, money and brain-space, just to deal with the rules and regulations that have been put there to stop 'smart' people. The more loop-holes 'smart' people find, the more the government has to spend on closing them. The more rules 'smart' people flout, the more checks and restrictions the government has to bring. At the end of the day, a lay person, who is not 'smart' and doesn't flout laws, has to go through more checks, restrictions, rules, regulations, approvals, attestations, 'no-objections' and validations to get, even the basic things in life, 'done'; all the while paying taxes for the enforcement of these very same restrictions, rules, regulations, approvals, attestations, 'no-objections' and validations. Such is the way!

So, "be smart, child"...

 

   

When words, like islands, are sparser; meaning, like the ocean, is deeper.

Lives are lived

Lives are made

And some lives are recounted.

Lives are spent

Lives are lost

Yet most lives are discounted.

So,

Live today

Live tomorrow

Never relive a sorrow.

Live long

Live large

Beg, beguile or borrow.

The Fellow man

It’s scorching noon in Chennai and the sun’s wrath has never been worse this year. The tarred roads are at least fifteen degrees hotter than ambient and conjure up mirages like nobody’s business, making the scene look more like a stylised painting. But in it you can see spots of red, orange, green and black going up and down the street without any care of the punishing heat. These are our very own food-delivery agents parading their brand-specific t-shirts. The craziest thing is these shirts are often worn on top of another layer, protecting them from sweat so they can be worn for a day more. Now, imagine wearing two layers in 42 degree weather (feels like 50, as per Google) with the sun resolute to cook you alive. These guys, most of them young, ride around delivering lunches from restaurants to people’s homes and offices like it’s a walk in the park. Most don’t care to wear even a cap on top of their baking heads.

The number of jobs tech has created in recent times is commendable and much needed too. A never ceasing population growth needs any and all means of job creation. There is no room to think about ‘human rights’ or ‘the environment’ when the scramble for survival is very real. Marriage and baby-making is sacred though; it’s something every man and woman is expected to get done or die trying. Wait, did you just think about population control?! Oh, snap! You’re a villain now.

These days, in Chennai at least, there is a new distinction between jobs - is the work environment air-conditioned or not? This is why jobs at malls and showrooms are so highly sought after among less privileged youth. Cab-ride apps have made way for another air-conditioned workspace, aka cars. There is no sign of summers getting any cooler, so, hopefully, more workplaces will become climate-controlled. However, there still will be some poor souls that will have to brave the horrible sun.

But, what determines who is hung out to dry? Is it intelligence? Character? Discipline? Grit?

Nope, it’s just plain fate. 

The foremost reason we are where we are is fate. 

You might argue that it’s through hard work and determination that you made it to where you are now; but, in a roundabout way, that argument also means the people who aren’t as successful are not working hard and/or are not determined enough. As far as I can see, these delivery agents are hard-working and hella determined to make a buck; but if just brain-work qualifies, then maybe the scales are a bit skewed. You might not be at fault for thinking that the grades at school and the appraisals at work are the testaments of one’s value. It is the result of the system put in place to choose the right candidates for particular kinds of tasks. It’s the same for a plethora of professions and trades where you just have to be good at certain things to get the job done right. However, it’s only human to attach elevated meanings to these scores and distinctions. 

As far as such competitive evaluation systems give you positive energy and the spirit of ambition, it’s great! However, being completely unaware that the majority out there who haven’t even had the privilege to know that such things exist, is very much like an American team claiming they are ‘World Champions’ in ‘American’ Football! Joking aside, being aware of the people of the world and their predicaments helps us stay grounded and less lost in out our own bubble-worlds. It can prevent us from falling into the trap of prejudice and baseless discrimination. 

In a world where ‘globalisation’ has such a positive connotation, only trade, money and workers have really crossed borders; and maybe some refugees too. Fresh hatred and fear are being sowed for political ambitions while old biases grow ever stronger. For most of us, all the chaos is overwhelming and we cocoon ourselves, focusing more on our work, our family and our future. But one natural crisis, one mistake on the road, one late cab at night or one random misfortune (*touch wood* to all of those!) could burst the bubble in a second and reality will stare us right in the face. Only the residual humanity left in our society will come to the rescue.

It could only do us good to think also about the fellow man.

Another short story - 'Curry Leaves'

They are free if you buy other vegetables at the local grocery store. Your neighbours wouldn’t even be bothered if you plucked a few from their tree. But their enigmatic value runs deep into the very subconscious of every ‘Madrasi’. Almost every curry made down here, in the southern part of India, needs a few of them at the very beginning of the preparation process. Without its unmistakable aroma and unique flavour in the mix, South Indian food would seem alien to any South Indian. It even adds to the colour and authentic look of various dishes. 

But, the story is very different after a dish has been served. After the beautiful ensemble of the dish with its steamy freshness has been relished with resolute patronage, the curry leaf faces the ultimate twist of fates. 

He was sitting there, opposite her, in a ‘pure vegetarian’ authentic South Indian restaurant, looking at her beautiful face lit by the evening sun beaming orange through the large window behind him. Was she trying not to look at him, or was it the sun? - he couldn’t figure out. They had been together for about eight months. Eight months of feeling special and important to someone is enough to change your entire life. For him, it was validation that he wasn’t weird; that he belonged somewhere, unlike what his parents and sister made him feel. He had built himself an entire castle of confidence around it. And she was the queen. Her pink and perfect lips shifted shapes fast. He didn’t listen. Instead, he watched her gracefully pour the hot sambar onto her very white plate, with equally white but fluffy idlies sitting on it. 

Her mind was completely taken by the task of saying what she was here to say and yet her fingers, as if by their own accord, slowly started fishing out one curry leaf after another from the sambar and placing them aside. Leaves that were worth no money and yet one reason why this sambar smelled, and would probably taste, as exquisite as it would have several hundred years ago. But now it was time for them to be removed. Much like how he had to be, for her to say yes to an alliance her parents had found for her. Her voice wasn’t steady like her hands though. But neither was this whole thing unforeseen. 

He knew this was coming too. She knew he knew. But this conversation had to be had. Hope had to be extinguished and the castle had to come crashing down. The other guy was just a way better proposition. Software engineer at one of the tech giants in Silicon Valley with a hefty paycheque to keep any Indian girl happy. And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was her. But, he just couldn't face 'goodbye'.

His eyes fixated on the leaves. ‘What must they be thinking?’, he thought. They were just leaves on some random plant, trying to do their thing. But someone just came by, plucked them and threw them into a frying pan. And now here they lay, cast aside, soon to be one with the garbage. 

She tried to hold back her tears. Life wasn't going to be the same without him. She wanted him to be happy. There were other girls out there. All he had to do was get out there and find himself someone great for him. Someone nice, who could go the distance with him. Because she couldn’t. Her parents and relatives would be very disappointed in her if she let the US proposal go. ‘You know how much I always wanted to travel’, she said. 

It didn’t make sense to him, but he understood. He had to. 

The sun set as she left. 

He sat there, still looking at her plate. She hadn’t eaten a single bite. But all the curry leaves had been removed clean off the sambar.

Short story - Lapse limbo

The living room hasn’t been cleaned for weeks. Crumpled, empty bags of chips, energy bar wrappers and drink bottles, are strewn across it. He usually blames it on the ceiling fan for scattering it all around. The fairly large coffee table doesn't have a square-inch left unoccupied. Unread newspapers, pamphlets and bills lie all over it, haphazardly. Two unwashed mugs stand on one corner, while another lurks below the table, abandoned. The couch, thankfully, has almost nothing on it; surprising, judging by the rest of the room. This is because he moves around on it a lot and often sleeps overnight on it; dozing off while the TV is still on. 

As the morning light hits the sprite can, which still has an ounce left in it, he walks in from the bedroom. He isn’t yawning or squinting. His eyes are wide open and his heart is speeding. ‘What was it?’, he thinks to himself, ‘I knew it a second ago’. He is frustrated because this is the fourth time it has happened to him this week. He forgot again.

It’s 2 in the afternoon and the office is filled with the clicking of mice and clacking of computer keys. He is staring at his screen but his mind has wandered off. It is busy trying to piece things together for the umpteenth time. It had been the exact same dream. He was intensely searching for something; something very important. And at the end of it, he had felt so much better than he has been feeling for days. It was the exact same dream. However hard he puts his mind to it though, he can’t remember what he was searching for. He had to know what it was.

It’s 8 in the evening. He is sat in his living room at one corner of the couch, head in his hands. He is just sitting there, letting time slip by. He has already given up. 

The next day isn’t very productive either. Neither can he finish his work for the day, nor does the mystery unravel even a bit. Back on the couch by evening, but this time with the TV on, he lies there staring at the ceiling fan. The emptiness seems so permanent. It was over a year ago that she had left him. He couldn’t hate her, how much ever he tried. His chest weighed a tonne. The pain seemed insurmountable. It took him months, but he finally did manage to get over it. He had just found a groove to get back on track, and now this. This was beyond what he could handle.

It’s 4 in the morning and the TV is still on. He had passed out, while still lying on the couch. And now, he is dreaming the same dream. 

‘Of course I remember, how could I ever forget?!’ he thinks to himself. And then he starts searching for something all over the apartment. 

They used to write letters to each other; physical letters. It was their thing. Long distance relationships are not easy and they had to get creative if they wanted keep it alive. But, it turned into a sour thing when they began fighting through the same letters. She wanted him to join her. He wasn’t putting enough effort into it. Things reached the point of no return and the writing stopped. It had gotten way too serious for quaintness. The breakup and the quarrels leading up to it happened over the phone. He was seething. She was distraught. His ego had made it all about his pride and individualism. Neither of which he cared about right now.

But there was one last letter. A letter she chose to write for him after everything was over. A remnant of that special thing they had. He didn’t open it. And soon enough, it was misplaced and forgotten. 

About 3 weeks back, he received a call from a mutual friend. An unfortunate news ripped his heart and mind to shreds in an instant. It left him lifeless. 

There had been an accident. She was gone. 

Everything derailed. He was reduced to a barely functioning man. Meaning and purpose had vanished.

And then came the dreams. The exact same dream over and over. In it, he would restlessly search all night for her last letter; breathing deeply, like a madman, all through. And when he finally found it, his heart would flood with emotion. Her last words to him, as he imagined them to be, would be magical and healing. He would feel a sense of peace, an oasis of comfort, in a world of pain; a momentary stillness at the eye of the storm.

It’s 6:57am. He wakes up breaking a sweat. Eyes wide open and heart racing, he jumps up on his feet and repeatedly presses his palms to his temples. ‘Not again, not again!’, he says to himself, forlorn and agitated. ‘What was it, god damn it! What the hell was I searching for?’

All the while, her last letter lies neglected under the coffee table, perfectly hidden from view.

Free money!!!

Sikkim’s Chief minister has announced that, if elected, he will provide a ‘Universal Basic Income’ (UBI) to all 7 lakh state citizens by 2022. This, basically, means the Sikkim Government might end up giving every registered resident of the state a nominal amount of money periodically, for free. The Chief Minister claims that he will finance this with the surpluses the state government gets as its share from central hydel-power projects in the state. Though the feasibility of this needs to be established, the concept of UBI is clearly back in the limelight.

As many of us already know, the Economic Survey of 2016-17 has a whole 40 pages(173 - 212) on the topic (refer: https://www.indiabudget.gov.in/es2016-17/echapter.pdf) and it clearly defines and explains everything about Universal Basic Income. However, some doubts still plague the concept. Here’s an attempt to address them…

Can we afford it? 

Free money for everyone seems completely bonkers at first, but the fact is the government leases out resources common to us all and makes a lot of money out of it. For example, the very air around us is leased out to telecommunications companies to relay their signals over. What the government does with this money is not based on equality but on requirements and policies. Theoretically, it is possible to fund UBI in India and bring equality into the equation, even though we are still a developing country. In reality though, the jury is still out on the finance. Several existing schemes and ‘yojnas’ might have to be revoked(which is bad for the polls). However, the true cost (beyond just money) of such a measure can only be investigated once it is implemented.

Will it make people lazy?

Several trials done at different locations around the world suggest that this is not the case. However, the people receiving money probably knew the trials were only going to last a couple of months. The behavioural response in this case could be different from that to a more permanent government policy. Hence, it’s only rational to be skeptical. The amount every person will receive is a critical factor in determining whether people will become lazy or not. If it’s too small, it’s no help at all and if it’s too large, it’s definitely going to make many people quit work. 

Is it a ruse? 

Like all political moves, UBI might very well be a strategy to gain an advantage during elections. Voting out a government that hands out ‘free money’ doesn’t sound like an idea the beneficiaries might support. Unless, of course, the party in opposition is willing to continue the scheme or do better. Much like several other programs aimed at helping the needy, UBI could become something with a political ‘Lakshman Rekha’ around it. If the word ‘experiment’ is used as anticipatory bail before implementing UBI, there could be a way out if it indeed turns out to be infeasible and/or damaging to social health.

Why does the Silicon Valley speak highly of UBI? 

To know why Zuckerberg and several others in the Bay Area support UBI, it is essential to think like a capitalist. Most businesses need a stable government that doesn’t change it’s policies every few years. A government that brings UBI is likely to be highly favoured among those in the majority vote-bank, thus extending its time in power. Also, since the funds to maintain the scheme is heavily dependent on the taxes paid by large companies, they get a significant upgrade in terms of their leverage in the ‘lobby’. The government could lose its high-ground; not that it has much at present. Moreover, any young person with a thousand free bucks every month in his/her pocket is going to get more internet or buy more stuff online. This is a good plus for companies whose sole agenda is ‘more people in front of more screens for more time’.

Is it right for India?

In a country where the majority of bureaucracy is corrupt and/or blatantly misuses authority, it is always a good idea to bypass all of it and provide help directly to the people in need. The idea of every helpless,hungry human being (with a bank account) getting a respite, however small it may be, is heart-warming. On the other hand, the concept of giving Mr.Ambani Rs.1000 a month is just comical. The difference between equality and equity comes to the fore here. Several layers of bureaucracy came into existence for the very purpose of directing funds to those in actual need. If at all we do find a way to make it viable, UBI could come with an ‘opt out’ option - much like the LPG subsidy. Will it help transform us for the better? - your guess is as good as anybody’s!

"Ende Ayyapo!" (OMG!)

Sabarimala is on national news today. The age-old tradition of denying women below the age of fifty entry into the famous Ayappa temple atop Sabarimala has been broken. Two women have bravely gone where no woman(of their age group) has gone before. Protests have erupted across the state of Kerala, but they seem to be largely politically motivated. So then, which side does the average person take in this seemingly dicey debate? For starters, you might think - ‘Why did these women choose to target this long held religious custom? Why not address gender issues in other social and work related settings?’. Let me try and shed some light.

Imagine a little boy and his father going on a pilgrimage to Sabarimala. The boy notices that in all the masses of people around them, there aren’t any girls or women(except some old grandmas). So, he asks his father in all innocence, “Dad, why aren’t there any women here?”. Now, imagine you are that little boy’s father and you need to answer that question; what would your explanation be? 

Let me guess; any father would probably say, “It’s tradition. Only women above the age of fifty come to Sabarimala”. Surely though, curiosity isn’t a courteous guest. The boy would predictably go on to ask why that is. What would you say then? Would you come up with a lie to shut him up? Or would you just opt to break it to him that our tradition believes women are ‘impure’? There is no chance that you would explain the whole biology of menstruation to the young boy; but that’s besides the point here. Any which way, the boy will eventually learn the truth. He is going to grow up with the idea that women are intrinsically ‘sub-man’. That there is something mysteriously wrong with them that makes them less worthy. This notion along with all the patriarchy and discrimination on blatant display in his day-to-day life, would subconsciously cement a borderline misogynistic mentality. You don’t have to take my word for it; just look at the footage of all those crybabies throwing a real tantrum out on Kerala’s streets!

This is why the Sabarimala issue is important. This is why activists tried to break the long-held tradition (and eventually succeeded). Though so many Ayappa-bhakts would openly support feminism and gender equality in their social spheres, at the heart of their most personal beliefs lies the hypocrisy of the ‘impure gender’. It only truly hurts when it happens to you - I mean the rude awakening. While we point fingers at Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, condemning how they treat their women, we forget that we treat ours badly in several ways too. We turn a blind-eye even when women are discriminated against right in front of us. All we need is some twisted and senseless logic to pass off as a reason for doing so. 

To me this Sabarimala issue is a wakeup call. It showed me how it feels when our hypocrisies blow up right in our faces. It is time to be more aware of the injustices being casually dished out on the basis of unfounded justifications. Breaking the silence might make the person doing it seem uncivil and confrontational, but what else will actually change things? Should we just go with the usual - waiting for western cultural hegemony to take its sweet time and slowly ‘advance’ our social norms, habits and choices on its terms?   

Millen'aliens'

Over the ages, it has been common tradition for the older generation to dismiss the younger as ‘spoilt’, ‘irresponsible’ and ‘lost’. Even among the youth, some choose to assume the moral high ground and ridicule the less traditional for being ‘ungrateful’ and acting ‘entitled’. All of this is well and good within certain limits, and even contributes to healthy changes in their own way. However, our world has transformed in terms of technology and social connectedness, which, though has had largely positive effects on society, also amplifies not-so-well-thought-through theories, propagandas with ulterior motives and just plain stupidity #StopMakingStupidPeopleFamous. Divisions between groups in society based on religion, caste, cultures, etc., has always been the bane of India and we all thought technology and progress would break down barriers - and this has largely been true with modern work environments bringing people from myriad backgrounds together and treating them equal, etc., but a new divisive narrative is rearing its ugly head and it only seems to be getting stronger. The one that aims to alienate 'millennials'.

The word ‘millennials’ was coined by a couple of authors to jazz up their book titles, but it was the media and ad industry who took it and ran with it. They used it to categorise the younger demographic who would graduate after the year 2000 and they attributed characteristics to the group that they thought uniquely identifies it. As we all know, the ad world adds extra masala to everything, and this has resulted in an extreme and skewed representation of the average ‘millennial’. The beauty of the age of social media is the blatant appreciation of the exaggerated and, unsurprisingly, social media took this unrealistic image of the millennial and ran with that. Mind you, social media may be young and created by the young, but not all who benefit are young! There are a gamut of executives and experienced professionals behind the scenes of social media and just like any other media, most people are on there for monetary gain. I think you can begin to see the irony here. A platform targeted at the young, built with content generated by the young themselves, but not really ‘of the young’ - meaning, the lion's share of the profits generated (through ads) are pocketed by heavy-weight investors and big-wigs who are far from young. When it comes down to the numbers, only a small part of the entire profit churned out of social media goes to the ‘millennials’. Sure, young social media celebrities get paid a lot, but where do you think the money comes from? Carrots to keep the donkeys going! The next level of business-thinking has embraced and brilliantly adapted to technology faster than we can even wrap our head around it. 

Far from a self-spoilt generation that was born hating reality, millennials seem to be the scapegoats to new heights of exploitation. The world before them is littered with unending sources of distraction and new, exciting ways of making some dough on the side, or even making a (questionable) 'career' out of. They are, arguably, being lured by this ad-money driven colossus and herded into a state of crippling addiction, anxiety and discontentment. Meetings inside shiny, glass-wrapped headquarters of ad-giants (Google+Youtube, Facebook+Instagram, etc.) have decided on their target - 'get more people in front of more screens for more time'. The easily enticed millennials are getting cheated out of hours and hours of their lives spent in front of colourful, super-HD screens. What comes to mind is the name of that social media startup the protagonists create in the popular TV series ‘Silicon Valley’ - ‘Pied Piper’; which I’m sure was hardly named randomly. The Pied Piper of Hamelin, as we all know, played his magical pipe to lure the town’s children away - how uncannily analogous to what these social-media platforms are doing to our young people! Who can resist when the most interesting and most funny content is right there at your finger tips? Reality is boring! 

There are very few ways to stop such a juggernaut of ‘entertainment’. There are those who argue whether it should even be stopped. On top of all this, there’s climate change, gigantic population challenges, depletion of key resources etc., that are being pitilessly bequeathed to the millennials to solve. There is no telling what the future holds and there seems to be very little, in our power, that can be done to alter it. We can choose to work along the direction the world is headed in or just crib about everything that's happening. Whichever the choice, alienating the next generation is clearly a folly. It is in our interest to actively set an example and be human to each other, whichever generation we might belong to. A bit of discipline, respect and wisdom can a long way too!

Quick update on Tamil Nadu’s Political situation

The song ‘Raman andalum’ from the celebrated movie ‘Mullum Malarum’ (The thorn and the flower) captures the usual state of mind of the people of Tamil Nadu when it comes to politics. The lyrics basically say that the protagonist doesn’t care who “rules” - hero or villain. However, recent events have made even the rest of India sit up and take notice of what’s happening in the political arena down south. The demise of the sitting Chief Minister and General Secretary of the AIADMK party, J.Jayalalithaa, on Dec.5th was when it all started (The events surrounding her hospitalisation and eventual death are still suspicious to many even after doctors released detailed statements two days ago). The party treasurer O.Paneer Selvam (OPS), who had been entrusted with the role of acting CM by Jayalalithaa herself during the time of her hospitalisation, immediately took oath as Interim CM. After that came the ascension of the hidden puppet-master, VK Sasikala, to the made-up post of Interim General Secretary of the AIADMK party (on Dec.29th). Then, on Jan.8th, protests erupted against the ban on ‘Jalikattu’(traditional bull-taming sport) imposed by the Supreme Court in 2014, which were arguably started by rival parties to exploit the current fragility of the AIADMK. However, it fanned public angst and we saw unprecedented numbers on the streets. OPS brought an ordinance (on Jan.21st) to conduct the event inspite of the ban and appease the protesters, but the protests ended (on the 23rd) on a bitter note with police having to use some force to disperse the crowds who rooted for a complete lift of the ban instead. Then came the oil spill (Jan.28th), which incidentally happened right off Marina (Chennai’s famous beach), where both Jayalalithaa’s funeral and the Jalikattu protests took place. Several Olive riddleys and fish schools were killed, and marine life disrupted when two cargo ships collided (how it happened is beyond me!) off the coast. And while the clean-up operations are still going on, the Interim CM resigned three days ago. If this by itself wasn’t enough, yesterday, all hell broke loose when OPS, the ex-interim-CM, suddenly came out saying his resignation was forced and that his party had sidelined him to support Sasikala instead. What will ensue is a political in-fight between OPS, who seems to have wider people’s support but, apparently, very little party support, and Sasikala, who has heavy influence over party ministers but doesn’t really have any positive public image as such. Not to mention devious schemes the opposition party (DMK, which has an alliance with the national opposition party, Congress) and national ruling party (BJP) willl hatch to try and disintegrate the AIADMK. Phew! It’s like the point in a western where the protagonist and his/her enemy face each other for the first time and vultures are flying low in anticipation. I have a front row seat and am all excited to watch the rest of this unfold! Trump can wait.

      

Cartoon: Denumerization

Is God real? - A rational approach.

Various faiths describe God in various ways while some claim God is undefinable. A stretch of the imagination can fill the world with a myriad Gods. However, to determine the presence or existence of a higher power, we need to have certain clear markers. One such marker is intelligence. Unarguably, God must most definitely be more intelligent than us. Another is that God’s proverbial ‘hand’ must direct our lives in ways beyond our influence. It is my humble opinion that such a God exists and I shall explain why. 

Let me break it down as follows:

Intelligence does not need a brain. 

All you need to consider to understand this is the incredible ingenuity of evolution. Just think of the various ways different plants and trees spread their seeds. For example, some plants give brilliant attachments to their seeds before they drop them off from their branches so that the wind may carry them afar. Why not just drop the seeds straight to the ground beneath? How could they possibly come up with such a mechanism? As far as science tells us, they don’t have physical brains, do they? And we haven’t established if they can even register the presence of wind, for God’s sakes! (pardon the pun) Clearly, there is a greater intelligence at work here and I believe it is evolution. Though it’s still a mystery why we are the only branch of species that has gained so much intelligence through evolution while other branches are still so far down the ladder, I believe there is a purpose for this intelligence of which I will discuss later in this post. However, the sole aim of evolution seems to be finding new ways to spread life, in the context of both land area and diversification.

Humans have evolved.

In the broader context, evolution is just one characteristic of life itself. There will come a time when science will answer the true reason the living world is so starkly different from the non-living, but till then we can only marvel at the phenomenon of life. If, in the context of this passage, we consider all of life as nature, then the direction it is headed becomes clearer. We know that nature never stops evolving, but where have we seen any of it over recorded history? Maybe it’s just too short of a time in the scale at which such changes take place, but I am convinced enough to contend that there has been a visible evolution in us humans, at least. We have slowly but steadily grouped ourselves into giant collectives. We have our workers, soldiers, chiefs, etc. and we all work within the parameters of one and the same system thanks to governments and economies. A clear hierarchy of power and allotment of duties makes our modern societies analogous to ant colonies. Too reductionist, you might think, but all I look to achieve by it is to demonstrate that a regulated way of functioning as a group is not a new invention by man but a result of evolution. Ants are able to achieve such an effective model because of years of evolution; and so are we. Furthermore, in some ways the stock market and economy seem strangely like living, breathing organisms in their own right.

We are only as intelligent as nature wants us to be.

Let me exemplify. Though we have discovered and invented so much, the things that really ‘matter’ to an individual is his/her family. The happiest moments of a person are still those spent with his/her significant other or his/her kids. However wonderfully personal and unique different forms of love seem, it is clearly evolution’s way of ensuring that we fulfil our primary purpose, i.e., procreation and child-raising. Our brains and ‘hearts’ are wired in a way that guarantees that we take life forward while blissfully immersed in the illusion of free will. By extrapolation, I would even claim that human evolution has taken us to a level where we have collectively built incredibly complex systems that will one day spread earth-life to other planets. This, to me, is analogous to the plant that sends its seeds afar. And though an average human being, much like the plant, may not posses the intellect to understand why and how to send humans to other habitable planets and constantly lives with the guilt of choosing technological development over the conservation of nature, it is actually nature or evolution’s hand at work behind the scenes. We are mere pawns in the game of life and its spread beyond what it has already conquered. 

Nature/Evolution/Life is an unapologetic God.

At this stage you might argue that I just took a direct leap from some simple evolutionary phenomenon in plants to interplanetary travel, but a careful perusal of what’s happening around the world can justify this. You can see nature’s laws and methodologies everywhere from among multi-national corporations to small communities. It is paramount to understand that ethics and morals are artificial concepts and are seldom seen in the larger scheme of things. What we see for the most part are nature’s laws like ‘natural selection’, ‘survival of the fittest’, etc.; for example capitalism is a clear case of ‘survival of the fittest’ while misfortunes and unequal privileges are outcomes of nature’s preference to effectiveness over efficiency. Much like how a large percentage of seeds end up getting wasted, a large population of people end up living not-so-fulfilling lives. Not all of us will get to become world leaders, celebrated CEOs or popular movie stars and this is the brutal truth. However, much like the worker ants in an ant colony, the majority of human kind is hard at work to enable successful functioning of a system that will finally put a man on Mars, which, in my opinion, is what life wants. So, whether there is a higher power than it or not, all I can say for now is that nature meets most of the definitions of a God.

I apologise if this turned out to be supremely anticlimactic, but hope you enjoyed reading it!

The horrible, horrible water!

It was midnight and the date was Dec.1st, not many days ago. It was my turn to stay awake and keep an eye on the level the water rose to. And rising it was! ‘Water’ is too good a word to describe the most germ laden liquid ever. It was the most sickening shade of brownish-green and the stench was like that of the puke of a cat that had a half-decomposed lizard and dried fish for dinner. It had risen steadily throughout the day and had swallowed everything -  cars, bikes, the little shop down the street, etc., not to mention entire houses and everything (I mean every single thing those people had) inside them. By divine grace, we happen to live one floor above ground and the water hadn’t yet reached us. But this night, it was raining hard again and the water was just two feet from entering our house. I was shitting my pants. We were four of us in the house; my dad, mom and the misfortunate neighbour from downstairs. I remembered the previous night and how things had caught us unawares. 

It had been raining the entire month of November but the rain the night before was unusual. It had been non-stop the entire day with intermittent variations in intensity. Towards the evening, electricity was shut off and the late hours saw much stronger wind and a much harsher downpour. I had been woken up at around 1am by an unusual number of exhaust notes from the apartment building beside us. People from the neighbourhood were cramming their vehicles into the parking space above which the building stood on stilts. They were doing this to avoid getting their smoke-pipes filled with water since the houses on this side of the locality were on slightly higher ground. How pointless it all seems now! This, however, had cautioned my senses which prompted me to take a peek at the front gate of our house to check if there was any reason to be concerned. Reassuringly, I could see no water other than, of course, the rain beating down hard. Though a bit unnerved, I had thought to myself, ”How long can this crazy rain possibly hold up?!” and had gone back to bed without the slightest clue about what was to happen.

Around 3:30am, I had woken up again to the sound of the raging showers and shuffled up to the window that faced the front gate, egged by lingering curiosity. Though the small canal down the alley opposite our house had over-flowed a couple of times (notable a few days before), there had never been a case, up until now, when the water ever came up to our gates and so I was expecting to see exactly what I had seen sometime back - solid ground. To my horror, the ground had disappeared and in its place was a grey mass of water that had already drowned about three feet of the gate. I had rushed downstairs to see it up close and to warn the person downstairs who, I presumed, might be sleeping without the slightest knowledge of what was happening. On my way to his door was our car and I could see through its windows that the water had entered into the cabin upto seat level. Even as we waded back to the stairwell, we never imagined it was going to get this worse. I had awoken my parents and the four of us had been awake the rest of the night. 

In the elapsed 24 hours, the water had risen from 0 feet to around 12 feet, and on this night I was convinced that the deluge was not going to stop till it devoured everything. And if that happened, our plan was to use the crude raft we had made out of some wood on the terrace that used to hold up a shade. We were going to try and reach the multi-storey hospital next door somehow and climb to the top floor and stay there till someone came to our rescue. I was thinking about what would happen if one of us were to fall off the namesake raft. None of us knew how to swim and the water would be too deep to get out of. As I checked the water level periodically, it kept rising half a step at a time up the stairway to our floor. Eventually, it reached the landing about five steps below the front door. I imagined a dirty and creepy man, made completely out of the flood water, walking up the flight of stairs in super slow-motion, all the while giving me an evil stare wearing the nastiest of smirks. 

In a few minutes, a miracle of miracles happened and the water started receding. The difference was lesser than an inch but the ugly mark left by its maximum level it had reached was now above its present. More time passed; it went down by a step. Then two, and then a few more. The hideous man was descending the stairs. But, by day break, it stopped lowering and stood there at a steady height. However, we knew the worst had passed.The rains had abated and slowly came to a stop. All we had to do now was survive with the potable water, food and candles we had left. The rest of the day, we saw boats rowed by men of the armed forces and the corporation taking women and children to safety and helicopters dropping food packets for all of us who were marooned in our own homes. We harvested rain water from showers that came down the following nights and improvised ways to pass the time (or just stared into the distance lost in thought). Honourable mention - the incredible endurance of the Nokia button-phone battery we used to listen to the radio while shrouded in darkness. The people on the radio were repeating helpline numbers with the sincerest intents, but we had no cellular network to contact anyone. Deep into the night, we heard shouting and wailing from the hospital next to us. We couldn’t make out what is was about at the time.

Within two days, the flood waters receded completely. We were back on the ground assessing the damage and seeking information. By this time, many families had moved to relief camps. The whole place seemed deserted but for a few of us. It took a few more days for electricity to return. Taps greeted running water when drowned water pumps were finally repaired. When the cell towers started functioning, we received calls from almost everyone we knew from afar. They had read about the floods and the deaths in the hospital right next door. The wailing had been about that. So many lives had departed from so close to us. We later learnt that the ICU unit had been flooded and the generators too. Some of them had passed away on the way to another hospital.

The whole place looks disaster-struck and depressing. People whose belongings were destroyed, are throwing everything out onto the streets which are eventually being collected by corporation folks who come with a bulldozer and a truck. Cars are being towed out and mechanics can be seen working on motorcycles and scooters that had gotten submerged. Many have returned from camps but some have left the area altogether. I hear stories about people who got stuck neck deep in the flood water and were rescued just in time by navy men. I see reports all over the news about several deaths and the state of people who are still surrounded by water. The usual blame-game TV shows and political fault-finding have begun their rampage like scavengers after a battle. At ground level, a mild version of the stench still lingers and though everyone is hard at work getting things back into functioning order, I know that each one, within our hearts, has a ton of pure gratitude for the return of the sun.

 Chennai - hot, hotter, hottest? .. I’m afraid, not any more!

A salute filled with utmost gratitude to each and every kind soul who reached out to help.

Recurring Romance

It's early in the morning. I sit at the edge of the bed.. knowing it's time to leave. My head feels heavy. I hate the thought of what must be done; it weighs me down. The unfairness of it all crushes me.. I hesitate to get up. My conscience begins to curse me. A strange sense of destiny engulfs the mind. I decide to pay heed to my inner voice. But then, all of a sudden, I hear her voice; that sultry, beckoning voice which could seduce even the most hard-headed of all.  Ernest and yet without the slightest sign of haste, she says.. "So you just abandon me here when I clearly want you to stay? Is that how this is gonna go?! Nobody is waiting for you out there, you know. No one wants you more than I do. You owe nothing to anyone except me. Where is your love? Is this how you repay me? You're taking me for granted, aren't you?! You ungrateful coward! You think I'll be right here tomorrow, don't you? Or are you afraid of what the world will think of you? You know you can never satisfy them. Come back to me, my love. Come back into my arms.  Forget everything else. Nothing is real except our love. Stop being afraid. Embrace me. Let me cradle your head and take you to a safe place. Come back into my arms. Let's be together in love for a little longer. Just a little bit more, I promise". I can't fight it anymore. I'm too deep in love. My resolve crumbles and I rush back to her - my sweet and undeniable, foggy-morning nap: that cozy state of pure earthly bliss!

....

I open my eyes after what seems to be seconds...

Shit!!! It's 10:30!

Citing source: Importance of Women Empowerment

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2013/oct/10/indias-women-mixed-truth/

69th independence day - and porn is the major issue. How appropriate! (TL;DR available at the end)

Many Indians feel shy to even utter the word ‘porn’. Well guess what?! The Indian government has made it easier by making it front page news! (#newbanidea) Before we begin bashing the govt., as we usually do at the drop of a hat, let’s get to the true story first. Kamlesh Vaswani is a 43-year old advocate at the Indore High Court. After much thought, he became convinced that (and I quote), “..watching porn fuels violence against women. It propels men to commit sex crimes”. So, he used his knowledge about the legislature and filed a PIL (Public Interest Litigation) to ban porn. There are two things that shouldn’t be overlooked here - firstly, the man is a socially responsible citizen who was troubled, like many of us, by several news bits of violence against women; secondly, this man has brought to light, once again, the power that a PIL holds. 

There are umpteen number of articles and news reports out there which take a clear stand against, if not straight-up ridicule, the porn ban. Quotes of movie stars and favourite authors being re-iterated hundreds of times across all sorts of media. But, the fact of the matter is, none of them actually ‘did’ anything better to stop violence against women. I cannot laud Kamlesh Vaswani for his intelligence, but I laud him for his initiative, however misguided it might have been. The motive of his actions was beyond personal gain. Hardly any of us even bother to do anything about anything bad in India. “There’s always gonna be a million reasons not to do something..” - someone must’ve said it.

This independence day, I’d like to share with you the results of what I’ve been thinking about for a long time. The answer to the question ‘What is the most important social issue that we must focus our energies on?’. I have taken great care to remain politically unbiased and logically sound, so, stay with me here. It’s ‘Women empowerment’ - yes, two of the most frequented words of Rahul Gandhi, the boy-faced heir to the ‘Hand’ that asks you to wait patiently for anything and everything. “What about starving children, poverty, farmers, education, cleanliness, corruption, lack of infrastructure, etc.?”, you might ask. Well, the simple answer is - solving this one issue can greatly help solve all others. How? - imagine a train with one engine attached to the front and pulling a lot of carriages behind it. It’s most likely going to struggle and produce disappointing performance. How about adding another engine to the rear? That is the difference an empowered female population would make to the country. Well, this just to elucidate the economic advantage; the administrative and social advantages are many-fold.

More women in the workforce means more financial independence for them, which means they no longer have to adhere to domestic ‘rules’. When more women begin to choose their lifestyles, men will be forced to respect them in society, whether they like it or not. Lack of respect is at the core of violence against women; domestic or otherwise.This will of course need to be accompanied by more women in politics, which is were quicker changes can happen. A huge majority of current housewives are not lazy or jobless as some might think. They take the pains to keep their houses clean, to make their children learn, to maintain a sustainable budget, to bargain with every shopkeeper, to up-keep everyone’s health and to even preserve a certain level of morality. Imagine if they could treat the locality like their home; or even the city, or maybe even the country. There is no doubt in my mind that more women in politics can easily outweigh any negatives with a substantial number of positives. Any other issue we address later will benefit from a considerably increased effectiveness; far more than we can achieve now. 

TL;DR : Porn ban was misguided, but no point in bashing anyone; real answer is empowerment of women.

Please lift my spirits by posting comments people! Don’t make me feel like I’m talking to a wall  :) 

You might have to hold your breath for this one - The Toxic Paruppu(dhal/lentil) Fart

So, one of my friends had introduced me to another 'interesting' friend of his named Guru sometime back. 
"This guy thinks in ways nobody would even venture to", he had told me. 
"He's like a uniquely capable out-of-the-box thinker and would catch you off guard with his counter questions. I mean, you wouldn't even be able to digest such a question let alone answer it. And his ancestry has a line of absolute geniuses, predominantly mathematics professors". 

I hadn't taken it for anything more than a bit of friendly praise to generate a good image about the guy. But I remember those exact words now and can't help but think how perfectly apt they were.

For a while now, I have been thinking about coming up with some sort of device to help women escape rape. I mean, a woman should have some sort of defense system as a last resort. However much the police, her friends and relatives try to protect her, at the hour of need only her instincts and the stuff with her will actually help save herself. So, I've been thinking about tasers and pepper sprays but nothing seemed to fit the bill. I mean, it should not be that just the woman with sufficient money gets to protect herself. The solution should be cheap enough that with a reasonable amount of funding this stuff should be freely available for any woman anywhere across India. I thought and thought but just couldn't come up with a good solution on my own. So I thought I should ask intelligent people for suggestions and ideas. Out of nowhere popped the thought - 'who better than Guru'; clearly the hype had worked. So, I got his number, called him up and said that I'd like to go over and talk to him about some stuff on my mind and he was totally chill about it. That was how he always seemed, chill and laid back about everything. Even his eyes were half closed almost always making him look like he was balancing between being awake and asleep. I went up his apartment to meet him and thought it'd be a good idea to get some Samosas from that awesome chat place along the way. He opened his door and let me in to the shabbiest of apartments I've ever been to. No furniture, just stuff like papers, books, pictures, musical instruments, electronics, a lamp or two and some unexpected things like a giant hello kitty doll, etc., lying around all over the place. Surprisingly there wasn't any funny smell. Nothing dirty or stinky anywhere, just messy and totally disorganised. I felt like I was inside a dope-junkie's imagination. Guru smelt the delicious aroma rising from the plastic bag in my hand with closed eyes and said, "Ahhh, the golden-brown tetrahedrons of gustatory delight!". I was happy I had made a good decision. "Definitely, Tea to go with them.. the perfect slow-boiled tea it must be. I'll be right back, why don't you go ahead and find a place to settle down". I smiled and proceeded to a corner of the living room which seemed to have relatively enough real estate to park my rear end.I sat down and noticed that the walls were largely empty but for a large painting that hung in the middle of the room. A recreation of "Woman in front of Van Gogh s sunflowers".  Guru was back after putting the teapot on the stove. After some pleasantries we got to talking about the primary purpose of my visit. 

I asked him, "So, what do you think of this? Do you have any ideas or inputs?"
Guru immediately said," Why a device?"
I had no answer to that. But I guess he wasn't expecting one.
"Why can't the woman herself be the weapon?"
"Oh, you mean Martial arts?"
"No I mean the woman's body".
"Rape resistance condoms?"
"No, I mean farts".
"What?!!"
"Yes, farts. Have you ever been on a public bus during the evening? It's the most disgusting place to be in. A collection of sweaty people from the middle and lower classes working various jobs, hailing from unheard-of places, worshipping different gods, but all assembled together by fate in that tight space to smell one man's flatulence. Perspiring like your body is crying out, suffocating and yet trying to hold your breath as a respite from  the horrendous odour, only to discover, on your next unavoidable inhale, that a toxic addition has been made to the already nauseating atmosphere  by another socially-participating citizen. Do you think lust would ever cross your mind when you are in that place?"
I was flabbergasted and was looking at him like I had seen a ghost. "No", I managed to say.
"Well, there you have it. The perfect rape repellent. Toxic-Farting. Women should just eat the spiciest dishes and the most protein rich pulses at lunch to prepare themselves for their evening sojourns into dark lonely alleys. Their digestive system would be ready with flatulence of exotic, eye-watering fragrances to dispense upon rape-attempt situations "
"You want them to fart when a rapist attacks?", I retorted, rather redundantly.
"Precisely. If I were a woman, I probably wouldn't mind even soiling myself, if need be".
"Wow".
"It would also work for cases involving multiple rapists, surprise ambushes and drugging".
"So.. They should build up gas in their bodies and feel uncomfortable everyday to avoid probable rape"
"It's not unnatural... Especially on an Indian diet.. We get gas all the time. Its just a matter getting it under control and using it to our advantage. Or did u think girls have special physiologies that don't produce it?"
"You must be joking".
"It's just a matter of looking at things a certain way. Ooh, tea must be ready by now".

I could not recuperate from what I had just heard. Any civilised man would find it appalling to listen to such things. I didn't say much about the topic for the rest of the time I was there and just focused on the things in the room and the remarkable deliciousness of the tea-samosa combination we had. It was only few days later that I reflected upon the conversation; I had consciously taken a break from my mini-research just to avoid doing that. I realised how a guy like me, without sisters, couldn't even handle the mention of a girl farting. Many of us imagine girls as delicate beings who are perfect, angelic and embodiments of everything pure and beautiful, almost placing them on a pedestal, in sharp contrast to those who see them as sub-human, like livestock, that 'deserve' to be raped if they don't bow their heads in accordance to certain prehistoric 'rules'. Two extremes, neither of which, I'm sure, women would want us to be at.

The elephant in nobody's room

I must not be alone in wondering what happened to the old India. The India we have heard of in our history lessons. One with vibrant and prosperous cities. The India that Columbus decided to sail dangerous seas to find. The land of spices, science, philosophy and flourishing trade. The magical place that had an awesome reputation for itself all around the world. They say the islamic invaders from the north-west destroyed most of it. Then there was the British colonising spree that left almost nothing in its wake. We could probably research about how exactly these things happened, but, at the end of the day, we are left with not a single relatable aspect of early India. Also, we are very skeptical about the authenticity of every ancient facet brought back to life. So much so that we treat it almost like an abominable ghost. Ayurveda is such a good example. The doubts are not entirely on whether the ancient practices of Ayurveda best or match up to currently accepted medicine but rather on the credibility of the person/s who claim to have resurrected them magically from thin air. Con-men galore in the brave new India, I’m afraid. Be what it may, we can all agree on the wealth of knowledge, which must have taken hundreds, if not thousands, of years to gather, now lost to us. Yoga, however, seems to have seeped through somehow. Probably because the western world fancied an interest in it. 

The end result, thus, is that we don’t get to bask in the reflected-glory of our forefathers. We are not in a position to expect much respect anywhere in the world just based on our nationality. In reality, foreigners might find more reasons to ridicule us; courtesy, for example, our friendly neighbourhood rapists. Like it or not, we have been handed down a legacy that seems to have been handpicked to make us feel ashamed. Irresponsible government, mindless customs, casteism, racism, sexism, age-ism (bade hai tho sahi hai - if an elder said it, it must be right), homophobia, xenophobia, etc. Thankfully though, all-out war is not one of the things that we have inherited. A fairly good constitution and the privilege of democracy are other things we are rarely thankful for. The negatives often overwhelm us way too much to appreciate the potential of the positives. A little thought can lead to the realisation that these few good things we have left are all we need to seize the future. The democracy we so casually mock everyday and the peace that we take for granted are instruments so powerful that they can completely wipe-out injustice and misery from our nation. If our generation could find within ourselves one-hundredth of the patriotism that our great-grandfathers displayed through their fearless struggle for freedom; we could write a brighter new future for our successors like they did. 

The question remains as to what we actually intend to do. New doors have opened all around us. One could pick a door and never look back. Those who do not have the privilege to walk through can loathe their lives away in jealousy. One could stay and make a respectable livelihood instead, with a front-row seat to the tamasha (comedy). Or, craziest of all, gear-up, get involved and own up to the consequences. Whatever the choice may be, a strange sense of pride always lingers. I, for one, would never ever fake my country of birth.

Anger ( == | != ) bad ???

There can't be any counter argument when it comes to anger being bad; or is there?

Let’s break it down a bit, to better understand the intricacies.

Anger is as natural as joy. 

Pretty much a strange bit of chemistry and hormonal biology happening somewhere deep in the brain. 

It is hurtful.

A pleasant experience for neither the people around you nor yourself, after you’ve calmed down and discovered how unbecoming you had been.

It is harmful. 

Nothing like a little blood pressure and stress to cut you innings down, right from under your nose.

It can cause headaches, anxiety, depression, strokes, insomnia, digestive problems, etc. A definite health risk if you are generally hot-headed.

It solves nothing.

Getting angry is just a vent of frustration and not really a magical way to solve the problem at hand.

It could lead to unfavourable outcomes.

Black-eyes or broken ribs from fights, for example; in case the person/s you get mad at have an equally bad, or worse, tendency to get riled up and things get nasty. In general, people might hesitate to socialise with you, to say the least.

Weighing the pros and cons leaves us with a straight-forward conclusion. Anger is bad. Then why do even the best of us exhibit this behaviour? Why do we enjoy the hyper-glamourised, anger-driven action sequences in our movies and TV shows? Why does it seem normal when politicians get visibly angry on national television, activists shout out their anger on streets, sports persons get angry on the field, spouses get angry on their cheating partners, etc. ? Why is nobody running a campaign to eradicate anger from our everyday lives altogether? Let’s investigate.

Extreme anger is usually termed ‘animosity’ and that gives us a good clue as to where to start looking. In the animal kingdom, we observe anger as a tool to exhibit defensiveness and/or dominance. A Lion king gets angry and attacks any contender who lays claim to his supremacy and position in the pride. A monkey screeches in anger to scare away predators. A cobra raises its hood and hisses menacingly at you till you get the hell out of its perimeter. Do these examples lend us an insight into what’s happening to us when we snap? A little, maybe, but not much.

Getting back to civilisation, we pretty much have a good idea why we sometimes blow a fuse over simple things. Our expectations are not met and we get so disappointed that we don’t seem to get a handle on ourselves. Or, we feel our rights have been violated and it is conceptually so  unacceptable that we flip out. However, this is just another example of how certain actions/events in life don’t meet our expectations. The anger is greater when this happens where/while we least expect it. 

So, we have that figured out. 

But, this doesn’t explain why we still let the idea of ‘getting angry’ live on in our modern societies. Shouldn’t it be discarded completely by the entire population? 

Well, I believe I might have a possible answer why we continue to ‘celebrate’ (if I may say so) anger.

The key is an essential concept at the core of it, namely ‘righteousness’. It turns a detestable human reaction to a glorified one. And rightly so, if I may add. Anger, in its righteous form, is the force that has turned the gears of change across the world. It had caused revolutions and reforms that have been instrumental in ensuring a more just and fair society in the future. Whichever country we are from, there have been brave people in our history who have raged against injustice and inequality to forge new customs. They questioned the norm and were hated for it. If they didn’t have the righteous anger inside them that fuelled them on, they would have abandoned their quest and disappeared into oblivion leaving things as they were. How's that for a counter argument?!

So is anger altogether bad? Certainly not. 

The trick is to perform a ‘righteousness test’ before you decide to run with your anger. Hard to do in a split second, but with enough practice and a positive attitude, things can only get better. 

P.S.  (Personal rant)

In an Indian context, especially Tamil Nadu, we are constantly taught to kill our anger from a very early age onward. Whole generations have been turned bovine and voiceless when it comes to blatant everyday blasphemies in administration, politics, media and the private sector. Ginormous capitation fees, rampant corruption, conceited MLAs, bullying policemen, bigoted news persons, presumptuous customer-service agents, inconsiderate bosses etc. are all welcome to stay as long as they please in our state. Why? Because we are too logically sound to overlook the ill effects of anger, whether righteous or not. Basically we just want to be respectful and respectable, ‘nice’ people!